These High School Days
by Cthepolkadots
Summary: This is the story of Kevin and his life in high school. Follow him along as he tries to figure it all out. The writing style is inspired by a book I read when I was a kid. Very short, but numerous chapters. This will be KevEdd, but also KevinxNazz and KevinxOC.
1. Titles

The style of this story is based off a book that I ready many times when I was a teenager. It's called what my mother doesn't know by Sonya Sones. It's about a girl in highschool and her life with her friends, family, and boyfriends. I've always really liked the verse-style writing that she has. This is my attempt to try out that style, some of these chapters will be inspired from the events that take place in that book, but the actual content will be my own. I have an ending idea for this story, but the actual journey there may take as long or as short as I deem fit. These chapters will be short, probably under 1000 words in all of them, but numerous. I may post several in a day, if the inspiration strikes. All of these will be in Kevin's perspective.

Also I apologize for those of you that read A Virtual Switch. I'm stuck on the next chapter. I've written one sentence. That story is on hiatus until I can get my thoughts in order for it. I really want to finish it though. I'll keep trying, I promise.

Anyway, here we go!

 **Titles**

Prior to being in high school  
everyone would call me Kevin.  
Close friends might call me Kev.  
Ma would call me _Kevy_ ,  
to be cute,  
or something.  
Pops liked Sport,  
or Champ,  
or Tough-guy,  
like that was some kind of honorary title for boys my age.

Now that I'm in high school  
I'm just Barr.

Somewhere between  
football tryouts  
and midterms,  
my first name got lost.  
Teachers,  
teammates,  
old friends,  
new ones…

Just Barr.

I never thought the thing I missed most about middle school,  
would be my name.


	2. Some classes

**Some classes**

Some of my classes are cool.  
I guess.

I mean,  
middle school classes were pretty easy,  
the teachers really just based it on participation.  
I think the hardest thing  
was when we had to learn about polynomials in algebra.  
Who the fuck needs polynomials in real life?

 _Honestly_.

But now,  
all the teachers are drilling it into us  
that our grades here are life or death of our  
"academic future".

I bet I'll never need to know who the 19th president of the United States is.  
Or what happens when you mix sodium hydroxide with sulfuric acid.  
Or why the oxford comma is a highly disputed punctuation.

Please.  
Let me play football.  
Let me out of this stuffy room,  
with these stuffy people.

Let me go to art.  
I get art.

Sure,  
I'm asked to memorize painters,  
or sculptors,  
or famous movements,  
but my _own_ work doesn't have a wrong answer.

The grass is orange  
because I want it to be.  
The sky is green  
because it clashes with the grass.  
The tree is pink  
because screw you.

Some classes are cool...  
I guess.


	3. My team

**My team**

I really like the sound of that.  
 _My team._

Like,  
one day,  
I'll get to be in charge of these people.  
They'll look up to me,  
respect me,  
all that awesome stuff that comes with being the captain.  
But Freshman can't be captains.

Freshman don't even really get to play.  
We support from the sidelines,  
and secretly wish bodily injuries to our teammates on the field.

But I would never actually _want_ that to happen.  
Not to _my team_.


	4. Puberty

**Puberty**

When we were in 5th grade,  
the teachers separated us by boys and girls  
and took us to different AV rooms  
to watch videos about what puberty would mean to us.

I remember thinking at the time,  
that growing taller,  
and getting hairy wouldn't be that big of a deal.  
A deeper voice would probably be pretty cool.

Being tall is helpful.  
Ma is always asking Pops for help getting things off the top shelves.  
Or he'd pick me up when I was little  
so that I could see over the people in a crowd.

And hair  
is just hair.  
What's the harm in hair?

But now,  
I'm actually going through puberty.

I don't want to talk in class  
because my voice  
keeps cracking  
and everyone laughs when that happens.

And I can't sleep at night  
because I'm in so much pain  
from growing.

And I'm only getting hair  
 _down there_.  
Not like my Pops,  
his arms look like a lumberjack's  
and his chest is like a carpet.

The guys on my team keep saying  
it takes time.  
That not everyone gets it right away.  
That I'll end up just as muscular,  
and hairy,  
and deep voiced as they are.

They slap me on the back  
and say  
"The worst part is the awkward boners,  
don't worry about this stuff."

I'm not sure I want to know what that means.


	5. The team was right

**The team was right**

The worst part is the awkward boner.

Nothing even happened!  
I was just in class,  
taking notes about whatever the hell the teacher was saying  
and  
suddenly  
awkward boner.

Thank God and  
every other deity  
known to man  
that I sit in the very back.


	6. Random happenstance

**Random happenstance**

It was after the  
 _incident  
_ in class that I met her.

I was just trying to escape  
before anyone noticed the  
 _problem_  
I seemed to have in my shorts  
when I took a corner too sharp  
and ran  
right  
into her.

She fell to the floor  
surprisingly gracefully.  
Blonde hair splayed behind her  
in an elegant wave.  
Her face was  
scrunched in pain,  
but looking at her  
I could see that  
she was just  
 _beautiful._

I stuttered out an apology  
and ran away.

Good job Barr...


End file.
